


The Sound of His Voice

by Fangirling_FTW



Series: Destiel One-Shots [29]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Cockles, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Hands Free Orgasm, Jenmish, M/M, Polyamory, Post- JIB 2018, Smut, talking about feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-25 19:11:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18580804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fangirling_FTW/pseuds/Fangirling_FTW
Summary: “Talk to me.”  It’s a demand, but it’s gentle, Misha’s voice a soft caress against his soul.“I don’t know, Mish.”  Jensen shifts uncomfortably on the couch, and not the good kind of uncomfortable.  “I’ve been in a funk since we got home and I can’t get out of it.”“It’s been a week,” Misha says, like Jensen doesn’t know that, “why didn’t you call me?”“Because you were so homesick I wanted you to have time with Vicki and the kids.”  Misha glances at Danneel, something silent passing between them before he looks back at Jensen.“Jensen,” Misha’s voice is calm, patient, and Jensen hates how good both be and Danneel are at reading him.  “Remember what we said, when we decided we were going to do this?”“That this would only work if we communicate,” Jensen mumbles petulantly.  Misha smirks at his attitude, bringing his other hand forward to Jensen’s other knee, the additional contact making Jensen feel more grounded.





	The Sound of His Voice

**Author's Note:**

> So I was digging in my Google Docs and found this that i wrote after JIBcon last year HAHA WHOOPS
> 
> Anyway here, have some JenMish(eel) fluff ;3

Jensen was in the worst mood ever.

He hadn’t realized it until he’d snapped at Danneel for no reason at all.  She had said something about using the right laundry soap for the twins’ clothes and he’d snapped right back with something completely bitchy and uncalled for.  Maybe it was because she dealt with small children having breakdowns, but to her credit, she didn’t reply, just raised an eyebrow at him and left the utility room to answer JJ’s calls.

He poured the (correct) laundry soap into the washer and shut the lid, starting the wash and leaning heavily on the machine, trying to figure out what had gotten him so pissy.

Summer hiatus was  _ his  _ time, it was supposed to be nothing but family and friends, lazy mornings in bed with Danneel, afternoons at the brewery, spending time catching up with his kids.  As much as he loved his job being  _ home  _ healed his soul and made all the lack of sleep and hard work worth it.  Hiatus also meant Misha spent more time in LA than he did in Washington, which meant shorter flights and easier-to-keep-secret meetups with the man who’d managed to steal a good-sized chunk of his heart.  By now he should have reached that happy plateau where nothing could bring him down.

As he turned to leave the laundry room, he stubbed his toe on the wooden shelving and bit back a curse, storming out of it and into the living room with a scowl on his face.  The sounds of  _ Moana  _ drift through the house, for the 200th time in three days, and he steers himself away from the living room, stopping off in the kitchen to grab a beer from the fridge.

“I called my mom, the kids are having a sleepover at Gram’s tonight,” Danneel said casually as she brushed past Jensen to get to the fridge herself, grabbing a yogurt for JJ and then swinging by the pantry to get those weird baby food pouches for the twins.

“Dee, I’m sorry,” Jensen sighs, his apology genuine, “I don’t know what’s wrong lately.”

“I don’t either,” she admits, grabbing one of JJ’s spoons from the drawer.  

“You think J-bird noticed?” he wonders.

“Don’t,” Danneel snaps, no-nonsense in her voice.  “You feel enough guilt when you’re not home for the kids, don’t start feeling it when you’re here.”  She sets the snacks on the counter and wraps her arms around Jensen’s neck, his nose immediately burying itself in her hair.  “All JJ knows is her hero is home, same with the twins. To them, you’re here and that’s what they need.” She pulls back to meet his eyes.  “ _ You  _ just need to get here.  For some reason, you never came home from Italy this time.”

“I know, I-”  Jensen sets his jaw as he’s cut off by a hungry whine from the baby monitor hooked to Danneel’s belt.  He gives her a squeeze with his free hand before pulling away. “Better get the kids their snack before they start eating each other.”

“I love you.”  She turns away, grabbing the snacks and making her way quickly from the kitchen.

Jensen scrubs a hand down his face, finishing his beer and tossing the bottle in the recycle bin.

 

He manages to get himself together long enough for some playtime with the kids for a couple of hours, marveling as he notices the bits and pieces of Danneel and himself in the twins as they age.  He’s blown away by the person JJ is growing into, strong like her mother, but so caring and giving when it comes to her siblings. It reminds Jensen of himself, and just like that his emotions start to creep up on him again.  JJ doesn’t notice, even when he gathers her up to press a kiss to the top of her head, giggling as she escapes his hold after to continue showing him her coloring skills.

He’s in a good enough mood to smile and play along when Danneel’s parents come to pick up the kids, but once they leave he feels completely drained, leaning back on the couch and staring at the ceiling.  

It’s 4:30 in the afternoon and all Jensen wants to do is curl up in bed and try to sleep this off.

Danneel walks into the living room with a sigh, turning on some kind of soft rock station and settling into the armchair with a book.  She’s changed into a pair of silk pajama bottoms and a simple pink tank top, and even with no makeup on and a messy bun in her hair, she’s the most gorgeous woman Jensen’s ever met.  She’s always been his rock, the one thing he can count on to remain standing when his moments of self-doubt threaten to topple him. Danneel has held up to anything negative thrown her way, she’s loved him even though she could have just as easily been resentful of what his “fans” said about her.

She was also the reason he had Misha in his life.

He can still feel the panic sometimes when he remembers that first kiss he can still feel the twisting fear in his gut as he shoved Misha away afterward and took off to drink himself into oblivion.  He can still remember feeling so lost and confused when he told her he thought he loved him, so afraid he’d lose them both. But then he also remembers the steady feeling of Danneel’s arms around him as she talked to him, the steadying hand on his back when they both went to talk to Misha and Vicki together.  The comfort of knowing she’d be right there with him no matter what, and that if it meant sharing Jensen’s heart, all she wanted was for him to be happy.

Danneel must feel his eyes on her because after a while she looks up, and her face immediately falls into soft concern when she sees him.  Jensen knows that look, and he hates that look. She thinks he needs taking care of, and he doesn’t  _ want  _ to be taken care of.  She pushes to her feet to cross the distance to him before dropping to straddle his lap, her hands clasped on the back of his neck and his hands falling naturally to her hips.

“What do you want for dinner?” she asks quietly.

“Dunno.”  Jensen shrugs, leaning forward to rest his head against her chest.  Her fingers run into his hair as she holds him close.

“Baby, I can’t help you like this, not on my own.”  Danneel presses her lips against the crown of Jensen’s head. 

“I’m so tired,” he breathes.  “I just...I feel like I can’t catch up.”

“I talked to Misha this morning.”  He doesn’t say anything, but his heart turns over in his chest at the sound of Misha’s name.  “He wants to talk to you about this.”

“Good to know y'all gossip about me,” Jensen grumbles half-heartedly.

“Yup, that’s all we talk about, your lack of ass and your semi-impressive dick,” she scoffs.

“ _ Semi-impressive _ ?!”  He looks up at her with a frown and she smiles innocently at him, pressing her lips to his.

“Well, at least you’re not so far gone you don’t respond to a perceived insult of your manhood.”  The call box from the front gate chimes so she pushes to her feet, and Jensen manages to swallow his whine at her absence before it escapes.

“You seemed to enjoy it well enough the other day,” he mutters.  She ignores him, heading to the front door to buzz in whoever was there.  Knowing Danneel she’d probably already ordered dinner before even asking what Jensen wanted.  Not that he minded, she always guessed right, every time. Jensen listens to the front door open and close and is debating getting up to help her with the food when he hears heavy footsteps headed towards the living room.  

He knows those footsteps.

He scrambles to his feet as they turn the corner into the living room and before Jensen can even say hello he’s wrapped up in the arms of Misha fucking Collins.  Jensen raises his arms, wrapping them around Misha’s back as he looks at his wife over Misha’s shoulder. She smiles at him, dropping back down in her chair she was in before.

“Hey, Mish,” Jensen finally says.  Misha pulls back, smoothing a hand over Jensen’s cheek, those bright blue eyes searching his closely.  Without a word, Jensen drops back onto the couch, Misha dropping to sit on the coffee table in front of him.  The coffee table that Misha made as a gift when they’d bought this house.  _ God,  _ it was crazy to think about how much Misha was a part of his life now.  

“Was on my way to LA, when Danneel called I changed my flight.”  

“You didn’t have to do that,” Jensen scoffs, glaring at Danneel.

“Yes, I did.”  Misha’s no-nonsense tone pulls Jensen’s attention back.  Misha has that rumpled look one gets on long flights, tousled hair, baggy jeans and one of Jensen’s old plaid button ups on.  His eyes that are usually alight with mischief are dimmed in worry, and Jensen hates being the reason.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Jensen mutters.  Normally on a night with no kids and Misha over to visit the two of them, or sometimes three of them, would already be back in the bedroom naked and on their way to a wonderful evening.  Instead, Misha is running his hand slowly over Jensen’s knee, Danneel is watching him expectantly, and he’s wound so tight he’s about to snap.

“Talk to me.”  It’s a demand, but it’s gentle, Misha’s voice a soft caress against his soul.

“I don’t know, Mish.”  Jensen shifts uncomfortably on the couch, and not the good kind of uncomfortable.  “I’ve been in a funk since we got home and I can’t get out of it.”

“It’s been a week,” Misha says like Jensen doesn’t know that, “why didn’t you call me?” 

“Because you were so homesick I wanted you to have time with Vicki and the kids.”  Misha glances at Danneel, something silent passing between them before he looks back at Jensen.

“Jensen,” Misha’s voice is calm, patient, and Jensen  _ hates  _ how good both be and Danneel are at reading him.  “Remember what we said when we decided we were going to do this?”

“That this would only work if we communicate,” Jensen mumbles petulantly.  Misha smirks at his attitude, bringing his other hand forward to Jensen’s other knee, the additional contact making Jensen feel more grounded.

“So what’s wrong?”  Misha raises his eyebrows expectantly.  Jensen tries to think, tries to figure out where it is his summer was shifted off its axis.

After a conversation he, Misha, and Jared had about having never been, they decided that instead of flying home for two or three days after the UK convention, they would go on a trip to Berlin before the con in Italy.  Jensen had a great time, even with Jared tagging along making not so subtle remarks about if they’d be able to ride bikes after what Jensen and Misha had gotten up to the night before. Darius was a gem of conversation and wit as always, and Adam even fit into the group wonderfully.  But it was obvious, at least to Jensen, that even though Misha was putting on a good front, he was burnt out. He was missing his kids and wife something terrible, so Jensen made it his mission to try and help Misha remember there were others who loved him too. After all, Rome would always be something special for him and Misha.  Jensen showered him with praise and compliments, and when words failed he used his body, a language he was  _ much  _ better in.  

When Jared’s allergies, and in turn his energy and anxiety, had taken a turn for the worse on Saturday, Jensen had been trapped between Jared and Misha, trying to hold them both up in front of a crowd of fans who were, for whatever reason of their own, on edge themselves.

And suddenly it all makes sense.

“Danneel is right,” Jensen says finally.  “I never came home from Rome, because it didn’t happen, at least for me.”  Misha raises a confused eyebrow but stays silent to let Jensen continue. “Our Berlin trip was great but...I didn’t get to relax in Rome, I had to be there for Jared and, and I had to be there for you.”  Misha blinks heavily, eyes dropping for a moment, and that’s all the acknowledgment Jensen needs to know Misha noticed the fans weren’t exactly all that  _ friendly _ towards him.  “Jared wasn’t exactly going to admit he was anxious about not feeling 100%, so I had to help him out without calling him out.”  Jensen glances away from Misha’s eyes. “And I don’t know what the fuck was happening in that room with the fans on Saturday but you were a mess-“

“I wasn’t a mess,” Misha interrupts.  Jensen just fixes him with a  _ look _ and Misha sighs.  “Okay, so maybe I was feeling a bit more down than usual-“

“You were fishing for compliments during your panel.  Don’t think I didn’t hear about that.” Misha shifts his gaze to Danneel.

“He’s right, Mish.  When you’re down we can read you like a book.”

“I’m sorry-“

“Don’t even start with the apologizing and shit,” Jensen huffs.  “I’d do it all again in a heartbeat because Jared’s my brother and I’m in love with your stupid ass and I just needed you both to be happy.  Then...then the con ended you left and I just…” He leans forward to rest his head in his hands. “And I don’t want to sound like I’m fucking complaining but I think...I just kinda felt alone when you left.”  His stupid, cheesy answer about having pebbles in his life comes to mind and he blushes in hindsight.

“Aww, baby, that’s what this is about?”  Danneel’s voice gets closer as she moves to sit next to Jensen, but he doesn’t look up.  “You’re such a giver, and I know sometimes the fact that I, and Misha for that matter, don’t often need caring for frustrates you.”  Jensen silently curses both of them for knowing him so well. He had definitely lied to the fans when he said at the con that no one in their group fit the ‘mother hen’ roll, but he had his image to maintain.  

“I’m not frustrated I just…” Jensen trails off.

“You don’t know how to ask to be the one cared for.”  Misha finishes his exact thought, and Jensen’s eyes close as he finally relaxes.  There’s a quiet pause while Misha and Danneel probably have a silent conversation above his head.  “It was a hard weekend, Jensen,” Misha agrees, running his hands up from Jensen’s elbows to wrap around his fingers, gently intertwining them together to pull Jensen’s hands away from his face.  “Thank you for helping me through it. You were so attentive and supportive, I’m lucky to have you in my life.” A weird little tingle runs down his nerves at the praise, and Jensen blushes for a different reason.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get all sappy on me.”  He's trying to be grumpy, but then Misha starts to press little kisses into his knuckles, and it’s so soft and sweet in comparison to how Misha usually bites and  _ controls _ that Jensen can’t keep up his pouting.  “Okay, I get it, you can stop now,” he huffs, taking his hands back from Misha.  Misha smiles, and it’s like the sun coming out for the first time after a long winter storm, and everything in Jensen’s mood just feels lighter.  He turns and looks at his wife, accepting her lips when she leans in to kiss him, apologizing to her through physical touch. She smiles at him when she pulls away, pushing to her feet and leaning down to give Misha a kiss.  Jensen can’t help but smile. He would  _ never  _ get tired of seeing that, no matter how many times it happened.  When she breaks away they both fix him with knowing stares and he shifts awkwardly.

“I’m going to go for a swim, maybe have a soak in the jacuzzi,” Danneel announces, grabbing her book and turning for the pool deck.  “I love you!” she calls over her shoulder.

“Love you too!” Misha answers.  Jensen rolls his eyes.

“What he said!” Jensen adds.  The sound of the back door opening and closing echoes through the empty house, and Misha does a double take.

“Wait...I know you keep towels out by the pool but do you keep suits out there as well?” he asks.

“Stared at her boobs long enough to notice she wasn’t wearing a swim top under her shirt?” Jensen chuckles.  Misha shrugs shamelessly. “Nah, when it’s just us we hardly wear suits,” Jensen adds, waving his hand dismissively.  Misha’s eyes darken slightly, enough that Jensen knows his evening is going to go in the direction he wants. “S’matter Mish?” he asks with a smirk.  Misha just looks at him for a moment, eyes traveling the length of his body before Misha pushes himself to his feet, kicking off his shoes and mirroring Danneel’s movements from earlier, straddling Jensen’s lap and resting his hands on Jensen’s shoulders.

“I wanna do something for you,” Misha hums.  Jensen smirks, sliding his hands up under the hem of Misha’s shirt to take hold of his hips.

“You do?  Will I enjoy it?”

“You might.”  Misha presses a kiss against Jensen’s forehead, stubble tickling his skin as his lips slide down to his temple and to his ear.  “But you need to trust me.”

“Of course I trust you,” Jensen chuckles.

“No.”  Misha pushes back, meeting Jensen’s eyes with an intensity he’s never seen before.  “Totally. Completely.” Jensen swallows hard, wondering what Misha has in mind. They’d played the whole dom/sub thing a few times, which had required a lot of trust on his part, but that was playful, something Misha did to add some extra spark.  This seems to be something entirely different, and Jensen takes a moment before he answers.

Would he trust this man with absolutely anything?  Was there anything he was truly worried Misha could do to him that would hurt him or make him uncomfortable?

“I trust you,” he admits quietly.  Misha’s eyes flutter shut and he kisses him, slowly, full of sensual intensity so strong it has Jensen drunk on it in a matter of seconds.  Misha’s fingers gently caress his beard, cupping his jaw before he pulls away, leaving Jensen’s lips tingling.

“I love you so much,” Misha breathes against his lips.  “Go upstairs, undress, wait for me in bed.” Jensen nods and Misha steals one last soft kiss before pushing himself to his feet, allowing Jensen the luxury of an eyeful of Misha’s crotch before he stands to do as he was told.  

He walks into the bedroom, slowly peeling off his clothes and tossing them in the hamper, pulling back the comforter to climb into bed before pulling it back over his hips.  Jensen settles on his back on the soft mattress, tucking his arms under the pillow with a sigh, as the mild excitement and curiosity for what Misha has planned make his blood start to flow towards his groin.  When Misha finally joins him, he has Danneel’s Bluetooth speaker in hand and is tapping away at his phone. The music that starts to flow softly from the speaker is a playlist Jensen recognizes as one of Misha’s meditation playlists.  He’s also used it when giving Jensen massages before, and the memories make him smile.

Misha sets the speaker on Jensen’s side table before walking back to the wall and turning the dial for the lights down to the minimum, shutting the curtains to black out the sunlight.  Jensen’s eyes take a moment to adjust, watching as Misha moves back towards the bed, stripping out of his jeans and his shirt before climbing in next to Jensen, except he’s on top of the comforter instead of below it.  Jensen’s eyes glide appreciatively down Misha’s body, the almost feminine curve of his waist, the broadness of his shoulders, the round bumps of his hips protruding from the bright orange briefs.

“You know babe, you don’t have to seduce me,” Jensen chuckles, “we’ve kinda blown past that.”  Misha smiles, soft and more gentle than Jensen thinks he’s ever seen on him.

“I want to try something new,” Misha explains.  “But to get you there you have to really let go.  If you think about anything too much this won’t work, but if you succeed I promise it’ll be the best orgasm you’ve ever had.”  Jensen smirks, wants to say something snarky, but then he looks at Misha and realizes he’s completely serious.

And the manipulative fucker knows  _ exactly  _ what Jensen needs right now- to get out of his own head and stop thinking.

Jensen sobers, awed and almost overwhelmed by how much Misha loves him.

“Okay, yeah,” he nods.  “I’ll try.” Misha smiles, leaning in to kiss Jensen’s temple before moving back, crossing his legs as he faces him.  He pulls out his phone and turns the music up slightly before locking it and placing it face down on the bed.

“I want you to relax,” Misha speaks softly, sending goosebumps in waves over Jensen’s skin.  “Close your eyes, and just relax.” Misha slowly pulls the comforter back to expose Jensen’s semi to the air, but leaves it around his mid-thigh.  When it’s obvious Misha isn’t going to do anything else until Jensen goes along with this, he closes his eyes, taking deep breaths and relaxing every muscle in his body.  “Just breathe,” Misha continues, his voice blending with the soft flow of the music coming from the speaker. “Don’t think, clear your mind, focus on moving the air through your lungs.”  

_Trust_ _him._

Jensen clears his mind and  _ surrenders. _  He lets go of everything outside of this room, listening as Misha’s voice guides him through letting go.  A sense of peace envelops him and he feels it when he starts to float a bit, lost in the currents of the music and the soft whisper of Misha’s voice.

“You’re doing beautifully, Jensen.  You’re gorgeous right now, so soft and relaxed, every line and curve on you is breathtaking.”  Jensen warms under the praise but keeps his breathing even, the warmth spreading from his fingertips to his toes in a soothing wave.  “I remember the first time I touched you,” Misha continues, each slow and soft word setting Jensen floating even deeper, “my fingers moving down the planes of your chest, down your stomach.  I wanted to touch every part of you, to memorize the peaks and the valleys, to feel and to taste everything you are.” The words slowly bring images to mind, images of Misha doing exactly that so many years ago, worshipping Jensen’s skin with such passionate devotion.  Distantly Jensen feels himself getting hard, but he concentrates on the soothing caress of Misha’s words. “It was like water to a man in a dessert, every time my fingers found ways to make you moan, every time my lips caught your breaths or touched your skin, desire flowed through me in waves.  I wanted to drink you in forever, to take you inside me and hold you there. You are precious life to me, light and warmth and passion that’s become a part of me.” The words are poetic, and the images they spark of Misha on his cock sucking greedily seem just as poetic in this light. He can see it, like he’s experiencing it all over again- the first time he felt Misha’s lips around him, the tentative brush of his tongue velvet and yet rough, and he feels the same love at the memory of Misha’s eyes that he did at the moment, that certainty that you were meant to spend eternity with this person.

Jensen can feel his body responding, tendrils of warmth continuing to caress his nerves as he fully hardens.  It’s intense, like watching a movie play out in real time in his mind of that first night, he can almost  _ feel _ the way Misha touched him, kissed him, and as the ‘scene’ plays out in his mind the memory of Misha handing him the lube and begging to be fucked makes his actual dick twitch.

“Oh, Jensen,” Misha breathes, such naked admiration and love in his voice another wave of warmth passes over Jensen, keeping him in his half-hypnosis.  “You were my undoing. So gentle, so giving, I had never had a man love me like that before. You knew just how to touch me, to stroke, to get me to open for you.  It was like my body knew how much I needed you to be a part of me.” Jensen can feel the slickness of the lube, the tightness of the muscles wrapped around his fingers as he had prepped Misha that first time, the scene playing out in his mind's eye.  “It felt so good, Jensen, so good.” 

Misha moans and it’s in sync with the memory of him, and Jensen’s dick twitches again.  He can feel his breathing growing heavy, his body warming as the line between memory and reality blurs, then Misha moans again, the sound sending his mind back before he slips out of his memory.  He can ‘feel’ the tight heat wrapped around his two fingers, slick with lube as memory Misha rocks back on his hand.

“So good baby,” Misha pants, and Jensen can no longer tell which Misha he’s hearing, and frankly it doesn’t matter at this point.  The memory progresses, Misha flipping onto his back, those eyes locking with his only to flutter closed as he was slowly filled. “You were incredible, feeling you inside me, filling me up the way only you can- I nearly lost my mind.”  Misha’s voice is a breathy pant, his voice dark and husky. “I could feel you stroking deep, the slide of your cock as you claimed me as your own.” Jensen can feel it too, his dick twitching involuntarily every time he slides into Misha in his mind.  He can feel the slick heat, the tightness, the need to drag it out and savor having Misha below him like that. “Mmm, baby I didn’t want it to end.” Misha groans, debauched and rough. “You were so fucking amazing, sweating and flushed, looking like something straight out of my fantasies.”  Jensen’s lost all sense of  _ everything _ , there’s nothing in his world other than the memory of Misha’s slick warmth and his words.  “The way you knew just how to fuck me harder, to find that perfect angle,  _ ungh! _ ” Misha cries out as Jensen thrusts into his prostate in his mind.  “You made me come so hard, Jensen,” Misha pants, “I didn’t even get a chance to touch myself.”  Jensen sees Misha’s body spasm beneath him, cum streaking his chest and his stomach, face flushed and hair a wreck.  “ _ Jensen _ ,” Misha moans his name, utterly wrecked, “Jensen you’re so amazing, so beautiful.”  Everything in Jensen is tense, coiled tight. Misha moans, low and long, and in the most fucked out voice, gasps, “Come for me, love.”

The tension snaps, and the pleasure crests like a fucking wave.

Jensen comes, and he comes, and  _ fuck  _ it feels like forever, his dick spasming as he covers his stomach in wet, sticky mess.  Misha is making little soothing noises, shushing him as he shakes from the intensity.

“Shh, it’s okay.  You did so good, baby, so fucking good.”  Jensen basks in his whispers, slowly coming back to himself as the pleasure fades.  Misha has turned off the music, stretched out on his side next to Jensen, looking like he had actually just been as thoroughly fucked as Jensen’s mind had remembered.

“Misha,” Jensen grunts, his voice more hoarse than he’d been expecting.

“You coming back to me?” Misha asks softly.  Jensen nods, stretching then subsequently wincing as the mess on his stomach shifted.  

“Oh god, that’s gross,” he complains.  Misha leaned over to grab the wipes out of the bedside table, pulling a couple out before hesitating.

“You might be sensitive,” Misha warns. 

“S’alright,” Jensen shrugs.  Misha gently brushes his skin with the wipe, and Jensen’s nerves light up like a Christmas tree.  He hisses between clenched teeth as Misha shushes him some more.

“Shhh, it’s okay.”  He wipes Jensen up as quickly and gently as possible, and Jensen relaxes back into the mattress with a heavy sigh.  Misha tosses the wipes and lays back down, Jensen rolling over to snuggle against Misha once his nerves have settled.  

They lay together in silence for about an hour until he fully feels like himself again, lifting his head to give Misha a quick kiss.

“Hey, Mish,” he hums.

“Welcome back,” Misha grins, squeezing him tighter with the arm wrapped around his shoulders.  “Want to talk about it?”

“I still haven’t figured out what  _ it  _ was,” Jensen admits.

“Your first hands-free orgasm,” Misha says, like its not weird at all.

“I figured that much out,” Jensen groans.  “But I didn’t think that was fucking possible.”

“It usually takes a couple of tries,” Misha shrugs, “and if it hadn’t worked I wouldn’t have left you hanging, but you were trapped in your own head.”  Misha kisses his hair, his nose brushing Jensen’s scalp. “I needed to get you to stop thinking, and I thought this might be a good way to do it.”

“We could have just fucked,” Jensen huffs into Misha’s chest, blushing.

“I needed this too,” Misha admits.  Jensen gets up on his elbow to look down at him, confused, and Misha’s eyes drop to stare at his collarbone.  “You weren’t the only one out of sorts after Italy,” he admits quietly. “I was a mess on stage on Saturday and it felt like I spent all of Sunday being babied by both you and Jared to cheer me up.”  He places his fingers over Jensen’s mouth to silence his protest. “I felt like Daniela’s puppet on Saturday, and then I felt like you and Jared’s on Sunday.” Jensen’s eyes widened in realization. As quick on his feet and seemingly spontaneous as Misha seemed, he’d come to realize that the chaos that follows Misha is actually carefully planned and controlled by Misha himself.  He needs that kind of control over the situation around him, it’s a sort of comfort. 

He’d done this not only for Jensen’s sake but because he needed Jensen under his complete and total control.  He needed to submit to Misha just as much as Misha needed him to submit, but deeper than just letting Misha fuck him would have allowed.

Seeing Jensen realize this, Misha smiled, trailing his fingers across his bearded cheek, nails scratching soothingly at the rough hair.

“Thanks for fixing me,” Jensen huffed with a smile.  Misha tugged gently at his chin, pulling Jensen in for a soft kiss that said  _ I love you _ better than the words ever could.

“Thanks for letting me.”  Misha’s smile turned dirty, his eyes darkening slightly as he nibbles his lip.  “Besides, I didn’t get to get off, so don’t think your ass is off the hook for later.”  Jensen groaned, burying his face in Misha’s neck.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to get it up again for a  _ week _ ,” he whined.  Misha shrugged, wiggling out from underneath Jensen and pulling his jeans back on.  

“Well, I suppose I could just go find Dee.”  Jensen moans into the Misha scented pillow, and Misha laughs as he walks out of the room.

 

The three of them splurge and eat pizza for dinner, sitting around the table out on the pool deck, talking and laughing well into the evening.  Jensen sighs contentedly as he watches both the people he was madly in love with exchange flirty comments, laughing and smiling both at each other and at him.  Misha’s promise lingers in the back of his mind, and the way he touches and holds Danneel close promises on  _ hell  _ of a night, but Jensen knows it’s more than that.  He may have been the one to fall in love with Misha first, but he wasn’t alone in it anymore.  Danneel giggles as Misha’s lips trace her jaw, the remainder of their pizza forgotten as her hand slides over his chest.  Both sets of eyes meet Jensen’s, bright with love, affection, and just the right mix of mischief.

Jensen feels it, that last bit of  _ whatever _ finally slipping away.

He is finally, truly,  _ home _ .

**Author's Note:**

> Leave me some comments and all that jazz lovelies <3


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